


The Unfortunate Accident

by Squarepeg72



Series: Books and Brooms [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Relationship, F/M, First Dates, Fluffy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 12:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11059404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squarepeg72/pseuds/Squarepeg72
Summary: A walk in the park, a good book and a … bludger?New hoops, a good game and … losing the front of my broom?Not how Hermione and Oliver ever thought  they would meet again …





	The Unfortunate Accident

**Author's Note:**

> Music: One Last Dance by Us the Duo, Stay with Me by Sam Smith

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/148170750@N07/35022649225/in/dateposted-public/)

It was a beautiful October day. Hermione had decided to eat her lunch in Hyde Park and enjoy the last pretty days of autumn. Harry had found a new book for her Werewolf project and she could read in the sun while she ate. There was a quiet grove of trees with benches she could sit in while she ate and read. She had heard about the construction of a small Quidditch pitch at Hyde Park, but she figured she would be safe from stray bludgers if she was reading in the trees away from the meadow where it had been built. She forgot that she would have to walk around the meadow to get to the trees …

The sky was amazing today. It was late in October and the air was crisp. Perfect weather for trying out the new hoops in Hyde Park. Oliver was in town to help with a camp for aspiring keepers and could never resist an opportunity to break in new hoops. The people running the camp had set up a pickup game at the new pitch in Hyde Park. Oliver hopped on his broom and headed for his end of the pitch. He knew he would have to watch for stray bludgers as well as the quaffle, but Oliver was up for the challenge of playing with the youngsters. People were walking around the edges of the pitch, enjoying the beautiful day, and he was waiting for the whistle to start play. He forgot that bludgers have a mind of their own once they leave the box ...

Hermione did not remember getting into bed. But, she was staring at the ceiling and the sheets were tucked up to her chin. The ceiling did not look familiar and her head was pounding. What was in that sandwich she ate for lunch? Hermione remembered walking into the grove of trees around the new quidditch pitch in the park but everything else seemed a bit foggy. She had been completely wrapped up in reading her new book on potions for controlling the inner beast. Maybe she tripped over something as she was walking and reading. But then why was her head pounding? Why was she wearing a head wrap? As Hermione took stock of her surroundings, she began to wonder where she was and how she ended up there. She also began to wonder why she knew so much about werewolves but could not remember her name or why she was walking in the park. Her head really hurt. Maybe a nap would help. Hermione decided that was the best idea she had had since waking up. A nap was a good idea …

Oliver did not think his foot should face that direction. But, then again, he was supposed to be on his broom up by the hoops and not laying on the ground. His broom was missing it’s front half thanks to the bloody bludger that crossed his path as he headed for the hoops. What was he supposed to be doing? Oliver knew he needed to get up but he could not convince his body to cooperate, besides, he really did not think he was going anywhere on a leg with a foot that was facing the wrong direction. The ground was comfortable and his leg really hurt. Where had that bludger come from? He might have been slightly distracted trying to yell at the curly headed witch wandering across the grass behind the hoops. But, he never lost track of bludgers when he was on the pitch. Oliver slowly raised his head from the ground. Where did those stars come from? Maybe he should just lay down again because, when he did,his head quit swimming. Oh boy, there were the other guys. Oliver decided the best thing to do was lay back down and let the darkness take over …

The room was quiet when Hermione woke up this time. She had been in and out of sleep for a few hours and now that she was awake, she was finally able to start piecing things together. She had gone to Hyde Park on her lunch break and had been reading a book as she she walked towards the trees. A bludger had been knocked off course and caught her on the side of the head as she walked behind the hoops of the new quidditch pitch that had been built in the park. The bludger to the head explained the headache and the bandage around her head. She looked around the room. There was someone in another bed further down the ward. It looked like he had injured his leg by the way it was propped up on pillows at the end of his bed. Hermione thought he looked familiar but the pounding in her head made it hard to think. At least she remembered her name now …

It was cold in this ward. The cold made the ache in his leg worse. Oliver hated to be injured and being in hospital made things worse. He was still having trouble believing that he had lost the front of his favorite broom and a month on the pitch to a bloody, wild bludger. The healer told Oliver that he was lucky that only his leg was broken and not his head. “If you are going to insist on playing Keeper without a helmet, the least you could do is pay attention to the pitch,” she had said when he explained how he had ended up on the ground below the hoops instead of in front of them. A noise from down the ward caught his attention. There was a curly headed witch sleeping a few beds over. She looked familiar but he saw a lot of people every day. That couldn’t be the girl from the park …

Hermione was tired of being stuck in this bed. The healer had checked on her an hour ago and told her she could walk the ward but, she really needed to rest. Hermione was not one to sit still or lay in bed. She needed to get back to work on her werewolf project. She needed her notes and book from her bag that was sitting at the end of her bed. Reading was not something the pinch faced healer could argue with her about. She was no longer seeing two of everything thanks to the last dose of Mandrake Draught and she needed to do something. Hermione was curious about the mahogany haired wizard in the bed at the other end of the ward. His rather creative and colorful language is what woke her up last time. He was asleep right now, but he had protested the taste and consistency of what ever potion they were making him take for his injuries in more than one language. His voice reminded her of her favorite Keeper from her time at Hogwarts, Oliver Wood. Wood’s intensity and need for perfection made him a great captain and had helped Gryffindor win the House Cup for the first time in years when they were students. Hermione had heard him lay into teammates at practice in more than one language on more than one occasion. But there was no way he was in the same ward as her. Oliver Wood was playing for Puddlemere and was nowhere near London …

Oliver was ready to go home. He had taken that vile potion more times than he cared to. He had lost his religion with the last dose and his colourful choice of words had roused the witch at the other end of the ward. He really hoped she did not speak Scots Gaelic, because his mother would drag him home by his ear if she knew he had used that kind of language around a lady. Healer Poppy had turned a variety of shades of purple as he had exclaimed “Sprèadhadh e! You canna expect me to drink this bleedin' potion every hour!” After the last dose, the Healer still insisted he take the potion every hour and, as much as he wanted the leg healed, he would rather sit through Professor Snape’s Basic Potions class than take another dose. The aftertaste of dirt and grass was not worth the time it would gain him on the pitch. He had to figure out a way to not take the potion or at least make it go down easier. He remembered Potter talking about Granger figuring out a way to make the Skele-Gro potion taste less foul when they had been students at Hogwarts, but she worked for the MLE now and was always going somewhere. The witch in the bed at the end of the ward had the same curly hair. There was no way she was the witch he had seen walking through the park …

Visiting hours were over. Harry and Ron had come by to check on her. Harry had brought a bag of “necessities” that Ginny had packed for her and Ron had promised to take her back to her flat in the morning. The healer had said no travel by Floo for a week, so she was going to have to get home the Muggle way, by hiring a hack.They had left about twenty minutes ago and Harry had stopped to talk the the wizard in the bed at the other end of the ward as they left. They had laughed and shook hands before Harry headed out the door. She was still trying to place the voice but she was tired. A quick trip to the loo at the other end of the ward and then, she was off to sleep. Solving the mystery at the end of the ward could wait for later. As Hermione walked by the wizard’s bed, she peeked at its occupant through her lashes. “Oh, hello Oliver,” she said quietly as she walked by, finally realizing with whom she was sharing a room. Hermione continued on to the end of the ward. She wondered if he felt as lonely as she did in this big room …

Visiting hours had ended with a surprise. Oliver had finally figured out who the curly headed witch was at the other end of the ward. His biggest clue had been the wizard that stopped to chat on the way out. If his favourite Gryffindor Seeker was stopping by for a visit then, the options for the witch on the ward with limited. He wondered if he could manage a trip to the other end of the ward to say “Hello.” Oliver did not understand why they were on opposite ends of the ward if they were the only two people there. As he has trying to figure out the best way to invite her to his end of the ward, Hermione quietly walked by. “Hello, Granger,” he said as she whispered a greeting. Oliver struggled to sit up further in the bed when Hermione kept on walking. He wondered if there was a way to talk her into staying on his end of the ward the next time she walked by …

Hermione was considering changing beds. There was no point in the Healer having to travel the whole ward to look after her and Oliver. There were empty beds around him and she really didn’t like being by herself at the other end of the ward. It was easier for her to move her stuff than it was for him. It looked like Oliver had broken his leg somehow. She was willing to wager that he had done it playing Quidditch. He, Ron, and Harry had spent time in the infirmary during their Hogwarts years because of the sport. No one in their right mind liked flying much less chasing after quaffles and snitches and avoiding bludgers, except for those deranged enough to play Quidditch. She was contemplating the best way to bring up the idea as she walked back to her bed when Oliver called to her. “Granger, come share some space with me. There is just the two of us here and I canna see the point in the Healer running herself ragged trying to make both of us drink her vile concoctions.” Hermione smiled at Oliver’s opinion of the potions they had both been forced to take.

“I’ll join you if you agree to call me Hermione,” she replied and began to gather her things and move to the bed beside Oliver. 

“Wanna wager on the colour she will turn when you are na in the right bed?” Oliver teased as she settled into her new bed.

“I’m for purple with a hint of red,” Hermione smiled as Oliver turned towards her.

“So what brings you to this fine establishment?” Oliver asked. “I am here at the invitation of a bludger’s encounter with the front of my broom.”

“I was also invited by a bludger, except my invitation caught me from behind as I was walking and reading in the park,” Hermione answered with a straight face.

“It seems we need to stay away from bludgers,” Oliver teased.

Hermione and Oliver continued to talk as they waited for the Healer to make her next rounds of the ward. They talked about everything from family and friends to brooms and the merits of their favourite activities. Hermione discovered that there was more to Oliver than Quidditch game plans and Oliver discovered that there was a sharp sense of humour hidden underneath Hermione's bookworm exteriors. By the time the Healer found them, Hermione had transfigured Oliver’s bed into one big enough to hold them both and they had fallen asleep in each other's arms, Hermione with her head on Oliver's shoulder. Healer Poppy quietly pulled the covers over her patients and put their potions on Oliver’s bedside table before leaving the ward. Potions could wait for dreams to come true ...

**Author's Note:**

> Scots Gaelic:  
> Sprèadhadh e! = Blast it!


End file.
